Talk, Talk

So I’m rooming with George…

He’s a great guy: ex-Army, intelligent, looks (and even talks) like my friend JP, who comments here from time to time. But, SHIT, he likes to talk. At first I thought the Busch beer he bought brought it on, but I have since been proven wrong.

He spent most of the first night telling me about his “hash runs”. Don’t freak out because you didn’t click the link, by the way. Short story is that they are a group of social runners. However, they choose to describe themselves as “a drinking group with a running problem”. Two hours worth of non-stop stories later, he was recruiting me for a Houston run that is happening as I type this.

I have to admit, since Dawn and I have started walking at night as a form of exercise, the thought initially intrigued me. Then I found out that the running path would be 6.3 miles long. (For you UK readers, I’m sorry that I don’t feel like converting that distance to metric.) And that distance does not count any false trails that may be laid which might stretch the actual run out to 8 or 9 miles. I (hopefully) graciously declined the invite, even after George told me he might be able to get me involved as the “beer bitch”. That is the person who either waits at the end of the trail with the cooler or pops up from time to time along the run with refreshments for the participants.

But back to George now, along with a little background information:

I am no stranger to having to share a hotel room. Over the course of my working life, there have been many instances in which I have had a temporary roommate to save the company money. And, while nothing as shocking as the turd on a towel incident has happened, I did notice one odd habit of George, perhaps from living by himself…

He never closes the bathroom door while peeing.

Ever.

And he has no shame walking around the room with nothing covering that most personal of areas. I guess that is an Austin thing.

In fact, on our first night in the hotel, we were sitting around drinking our respective beers and talking (well, he was talking while I was listening) when I told him that I was going to go outside and have a smoke. He said he’d go downstairs with me. So I waited for him to put on some pants or shorts to cover his boxers, but that didn’t happen. He stood at the door to the room in his boxers and T-shirt waiting for me.

So, yes, I have now taken a smoke break while hanging around with a guy in his skivvies.

Two more nights… two more nights…

Here I Go Again

Damn, Houston is starting to feel like a second home.  Once again, I am in this swamp of a city – this time for training for another contract gig.  On Tuesday, after the holiday weekend, I will get to enter places of business while announcing that I work for the state of Texas.  Excitement will undoubtedly ensue.

I flew down here early Sunday evening and ended up standing around the baggage claim area a lot longer than I should have.  I packed two bags this time because I had to dress “business casual” during the day and I didn’t want to wear those same clothes at night in the humidity capitol of Texas.  So I had a small rolling case filled with books, socks, shorts, boxers, and t-shirts as well as a garment bag with my slacks, dress shirts, toiletries, and dress shoes.  And, after several minutes of watching the same four bags travel around the baggage loop, I realized that Houston Hobby had left me rolling the bag… because the one with all the frivolous stuff is the only one I left the airport with.

While in the lost luggage department, I was able to use their phone to call the guy who was picking me up.  You see, I have no cell service right now.  I was hoping to have my replacement phone before I left town, but things did not work out for me in that regard.  So a huge cargo van kept circling the pickup area just waiting for me to come outside.  I felt sorry for the other nine people in the van, but what was I supposed to do?

The lady at the airport asked me for a contact number.  I had nothing to give her.  I knew the name of the hotel I would be staying at, but I didn’t know anything beyond that.  She gave me a sheet with a “help” number for me to call when I knew how I could be reached.  I was ok with that.  I have had luggage lost before and had it delivered to me much sooner than I expected, so I just went outside to flag down my ride.  Soon, I was on the way to the hotel.  Or WAS I?

The two guys coordinating the project and the pickup were evidently taking all of us out to eat…  all 20 of us.  Imagine how hard it is to find a table at a decent restaurant at 7pm on a Sunday.  They already had a place picked out – Gringo’s – and when we got there, we had to wait forever.  Plus, when we were finally seated, our group was split up, though that wasn’t a big deal.  What was bugging me was that I had no cell phone to contact Dawn and tell her that I was safe, with the group, and being fed.  I walked off the plane at 6pm but didn’t talk to Dawn until 9pm.

At the table, I sat next to a guy named George from Austin and near Oswald (from Dallas) and two cousins from El Paso (Sal and Maggie – male and female respectively).  The El Paso contingent was rather quiet, Oswald was pretty cool, and George kept ordering margaritas on the rocks.  Me?  Diet Coke, and lots of it.

When we finally left Gringo’s, our host could not find our hotel.  All he knew was the vicinity it was in, but not the exact location.  When we started to get on the right track, one of the ladies asked to stop at a convenience store for smokes.  Our gracious driver pulled up to a gas station and we all tumbled out like immigrants.  I went inside and bought a six-pack of ‘Stones.  George bought a sixer of Busch.  I made up my mind at that moment that he and I would be roommates this week.

And we are.

And I Feel Pine

Ah, yes.  She has a way with words.

If I didn’t have to get up at 5am in the morning to take my mom to the airport, I would start writing about the camping trip that Dawn and I just took.  However, it looks like any sort of recap will have to wait a few hours.  In the meantime, though, enjoy this picture from the trip:

Filthy bastards…

The Gallows Polecat

It was a relaxing night for a change, even including the requisite hour and a half grocery excursion to Wal-Mart and the thrashing of putting up all the goodies. Dawn and I relaxed in the living room and popped in a recently rented DVD (‘Disturbia’ – disappointing movie). After that snooze-fest was over, we popped in season 1 of HBO’s ‘Extras’ (our new favorite show) and laughed just as hard as we did the first time two times we saw it.

Brief tangent: Dawn wrote about the show, so I have avoided doing the same. However, how can I continue to leave it out of this space when it introduces phrases like “purple headed womb ferret” into my vocabulary? Especially as that line is spoken by Kate Winslet while dressed as a nun. (I won’t imbed the video this time, but you can watch the clip here. Sadly, though, one of the funniest lines gets cut off at the end. Just think of Winslet talking dirty to Anne Frank and Joseph Goebbels.)

Anyway, back to the story now.

As the hour grew late, we decided to move to the bedroom to finish watching the ‘Extras’ DVD while drifting off to sleep… and then we were rousted around 2:30am because one of our dogs would not quit barking in the backyard. I could tell by the bark that there was no intruder or anything like that, but it was the type of bark that meant she wanted to come inside. No problem, really, because she rarely asks for that and we had already intended on letting her sleep inside only to be told (by her, as only she can do) that she wanted to go out.

So I went to the back door, opened it, and as Hailey rushed in it hit me, though I was too late to stop it.

Effin’ skunk spray.

Within a matter of seconds, our living room smelled like I imagine Courtney Love’s crotch smelling. (I don’t imagine that very often. Honest.) Between the door opening and our dog flying all over the place out of excitement, the odor gave new meaning to the word “reek”. I somehow managed to wrangle Hailey into the garage where she promptly jumped up into my smoking chair and rubbed her fur all over it, effectively making my get-away spot smell like a Pete Doherty bowel movement. But, knowing that skunks are nocturnal animals, I was not letting my pup back outside until morning.

Well, that was this morning. I awoke and went to let her from her temporary jail and back outside only to be hit with the foulness once again. Now our entire garage smells like Patti Smith’s hairy armpits.

I did some looking online this morning and found several homemade remedies for removing the smell. However, they all came with warnings like “do not seal because it will explode” or “may change your dog’s appearance by several shades” or “may get the song ‘Manamana’ stuck in your head for days” so I think the safest route is to go to Petsmart and buy the pre-mixed stuff. No tomato juice here, as I read that the other solutions are more effective.

Oh, and mothballs. Because that is evidently the safest way to rid the yard of the beast itself.

 —–

To end on a good note, here is the full Kate Winslet quote from the ‘Extras’ clip linked to above:

Oh yeah, that can be a bit awkward. Why don’t you just start with something light, you know, like um – “I’d love it if you stuck your Willy Wonka between my Oompa-Loompas,” you know, something a bit fun, a bit jokey. And then you can get more hardcore, run with the old classics, like “I’m playing with my dirty pillows,” “I’m aching for your big purple-headed womb ferret.” And then go straight in hard, like “Get ’round here ’cause I’m fudding myself stupid and I’m bloody loving it.” Right?

Watch the damned show, already.

Leggo My Ego

Everything is bigger in Texas. I guess that is why local TV sports guy Dale Hansen moved here from Iowa or Nebraska or wherever. He does deserve recognition, however, for turning himself into the most controversial (and most watched) sports guy in the Fort Worth/Dallas Metroplex. Forget his all-too-brief stint on The Ticket and his quasi-punching match with former Dallas Cowboys coach Barry Switzer during a live telecast. Instead, focus on what I consider to be Dale’s defining moment by clicking this link that will lead you to an on-air pissing match.

Are you back? Good. Let’s continue.

Because Dawn and I got this today:

That is just the front of the invitation. I didn’t scan the innards because the last thing we need right now is for Dale to go on the nightly news complaining about some rubes in Burleson who posted his address in a blog, as funny as that might be.

So, for a total of $300 (that benefits diabetic research), Dawn and I could be schmoozing with the local gentry while trying to match Dale drink-for-drink (which I hear is near impossible).

Too bad the price is so steep, because this would make great blog material.

Makin Monsters For My Friends

I debated this over and over, but after our last conversation, I decided that I had to do this despite the fact that I’m sure many people reading this will make the wrong assumption about who I am talking about. Let them wonder, I say, and eat cake while they are at it.

It’s trite, but the bottom line question is always the same: Are you happy?

So simple, yet so complex. A rhetorical life, perhaps.

We all spend our formative years knowing, knowing without a doubt, how our lives are going to play out. We won’t settle for anything less, despite what we say. That is…

… that is, until we meet that “someone special”. And, as much as we try, we cannot get blood from that stone. Or turnip. Whatever. The bottom line is that real life is rarely (if ever) as portrayed on TV. People are faulty and have flaws. Most of these are known, or easily perceived, ahead of time. The honest among us are like a well-read novel, dog-eared from experience but not forgotten because of memorable passages.

So, yes – it is convenient.

But are you happy?

Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out

Back in 1992, the local alternative music station (which was actually good at the time) started hosting a day-long concert featuring many different bands from all across the indie spectrum. It turned into an annual event that carries on to this day, though I no longer give it a second thought. I went to the first three of these Edgefests (named after the sponsoring station) and enjoyed them immensely. However, these days the lineups just don’t do it for me. But I am not here to complain about that. I’m here to mention a different transformation.

At Edgefest 3, I ended up passing out in the April heat during Crowded House and waking up to the Violent Femmes. This was the only one of the three ‘fests I went to and sat in the lawn area – also known as “grass” seating for obvious reasons. I went with two of my brothers, along with their wives, and have a vague recollection of Tripping Daisy closing out the show with a killer set.

At Edgefest 2, my buddy Ray somehow secured second row seats for us. This made my music weenie go a little crazy for two reasons: 1) Local band (and friends of mine through my brothers) pop poppins was playing that day and 2) San Francisco-based Jellyfish was also on the bill. Of course, pop poppins had to act cocky and invite people to stage rush – which they did – even though they were only the second act of the day. There is nothing quite like mayhem at 11am or so. If memory serves me correctly, the two headliners of this 1993 show were the Tragically Hip and Dada, totally ignoring just how great Dinosaur Jr. was at the time…

Disclaimer: pop poppins is spelled as such, with no capitalization. Also, the lead singer Broose is probably the sole culprit regarding the rushing the stage act, but he is a little “different” in a good, artsy way. If you don’t believe me, check out the link.

Finally, we find ourselves way back at Edgefest 1 in 1992. Despite the Sugarcubes and the Charlatans U.K., I was really ramping up to see Dramarama. They were, after all, the headliner – probably based upon the fact that they had just released their CD ‘Vinyl’ which included the song ‘What Are We Gonna Do’ regarding the new holiday Earth Day. (Another note: the date of the original Edgefest was chosen because it coincided with Earth Day. Save a tree and all that, you hippies.)

Playing right before Dramarama, however, was Pearl Jam. They were fresh off of their initial release (‘Ten’) and getting tons of airplay for their song ‘Alive’. (‘Jeremy’ hadn’t even touched the charts yet.) I owned this release, on cassette I think, and had given it a perfunctory listen. Since I was in my early stages of music-snobdom, and had already worn out Nirvana’s ‘Nevermind’ release, I was ready to write them off as just another Seattle band riding the insurgance of Kurt Cobain’s little trio. But then I heard them perform their song ‘Black’. Much like Dawn and Lois after the naughty room at the video store, I was never the same…

“Interesting”, I thought. At that time it was not common to find a hard rock band that combined social issues, politics, catchy hooks, and guitar solos that did not detract from the song(s) by reeking of showing off. In fact, that is still rare. But it happened then, as people rushed the stage without being asked, leaving Dramarama to play to a dilluted audience. I couldn’t wait to get home to give that cassette another listen.

But I was also a little cautious. I was ready for another one-hit (or one-album) wonder. I had been there before with Drivin’ and Cryin’ and School of Fish. I was not getting my hopes up.

Lo and behold, though, Pearl Jam has perservered. Matured, even. Much like a certain Irish band that I started following in the 80’s. Like said Irish band, the structure is still there and as catchy as ever, but it always sits in the backseat because the message is driving. And now, as I leave all the tidbits about how AT&T supposedly censored Pearl Jam’s politcal rhetoric out of this entry, I am left with one question…

When did Eddie Vedder morph into Bono?

If you don’t believe me, watch the video and pay close attention to the facial expressions, not to mention the (now) physical similarities.

Keep jammin’….

Tales From My Video Store (Revisited)

(Today I imported one of my classics, Tales From My Video Rental Store, because you might want to refresh your memory before reading this entry. Just sayin’.)

—–

My video rental store still sells samuri swords.

I know this because Dawn and I finally ventured back in there earlier this week while bored out of our collective gourds. Much of the product selection remained the same, but there were also several notable differences. For example:

The old TV sets have been replaced with mostly flat screens, the futons have all apparently been sold, and the dog evidently had a puppy. Also, there was a brand new fragrance case behind one counter filled with nostalgia galore (Shalimar, Aramis, etc.) as well as goofy, off-brand electronics in another case. Knives were still a big player, but we also noted new shadowbox display units filled with all manner of knick-knacks.

While I went to browse the movies way in the back of the store, Dawn passed time checking out the new product line. I met back up with her after picking up ‘Deja Vu’ and ‘Steel Magnolias’ (the latter was not my idea) and saw her holding a small wooden cat, a finger-mounted potato peeler, and a Yankee Candle air freshener can. “Must-haves”, I think she called them, after accusing me of flirting with Dogpatch while looking for the aforementioned chick-flick.

Now, I’m going to jump ahead to yesterday…

We were sitting around the house, wondering what furniture we were going to rearrange next, when my sis called. She asked us to bring back the dog cage she recently gave us because my niece just got a new puppy, and then to soften the Indian-giver blow, invited us to swim, as well. Excited to get out of the house, and to hang around two of our favorite people, we leapt at the opportunity and changed into our bathing suits posthaste.

After lounging poolside for a while, while Dawn sipped on Mudslides and Lois dove into Coors Light, the subject of our favorite video store came up. It did not require too much cajoling to talk Jerry and Lois into making the trip with us. After all, I particularily wanted them to see two of my favorite new items.

Once inside the store, I pointed out the objects of my affection: a giant skull endtable, replete with a huge scorpion on the top of its head, and the gargoyle wine bottle and glass holder. After seeing them, J and Lo (J-Lo?) admitted that they thought I was making the items up. Even in my most creative state, I doubt I could construct such artful wonders.

Things got a little out of hand at one point because Jerry and I looked up to see Dawn and Lois coming towards us pushing a shopping buggy on steroids.  I mean this thing was wide enough to require two parking spaces.  It made the two of them look like Santa’s elves at Toys-R-Us, ready to load up an elephant and California redwood.

Jerry and I eventually migrated toward the front of the store, ready to make our exit, when Dawn asked the guy behind the counter if she and Lois could go in the naughty room without having to actually purchase something from within. He told them to go ahead, and he would be on the lookout for Tex to pull up outside which would hasten their retreat while empty handed. In they went.

When they came out, they were changed somehow. I think I remember one of them muttering “I will never look at a donkey the same way again.”

It was back to the backyard pool after that. We all needed a good cleansing.

Sometimes It Takes Some Reading To Get The Writing Going…

So, yeah – I’ve been gone for a while. In fact, I have moved from my former home to this new site. The area is nice, the neighbors seem cool, and there is no pet deposit here. (Unless you have cats. If that is the case, you must make a paypal donation.)

In the past, I would frequently “reinvent” my blog. In other words, I would try out new shit to see if it would stick. The thing is, once I got to writing, I forgot about all that stuff. My best writing was done when I just let it flow… so that is what I am going to (try to) do here. Let it flow,man. Let it flow.

Over the last few weeks, however, I met with kind of a mental block. I often started an entry, only to save it half-written never to be seen again. So instead, I immersed myself in books hoping to rekindle the flame of the brain that tickles my writing fancy. ‘Angels and Demons’ by Dan Brown, ‘Flesh and Blood’ by Jonathan Kellerman, and ‘Mr. X’ by Peter Straub. Alas, none of that helped. Instead, I started reading the archives at my old residence.

And that did the trick, because – DAMN – I used to be a good, witty writer. And I want that again.

(I have said in the past that I never liked anything I had written immediately after the fact, but only after revisiting it weeks later. That still holds true.)

So, I intend to build up the post content in this new residence by periodically reposting something from the past, things I consider to be worthy of a re-read. However, they will be posted with the original “time stamp”, hence you might need to check out the sidebar for recent entries because the latest might not be at the top of this page.

Besides, over the last four years, I have picked up many new readers who may be unfamiliar with just how smart and captivating I used to be. Won’t they be surprised!

(By the way, don’t expect a lot of exclamation points. But the parentheticals are here to stay…)

Remain obtuse…

Blog Hot

A while ago, in another blog-life, I wrote about a theory of mine regarding how society as a whole judges people (ok – women in particular) based on their current peers. I called this phenomenom “Wal-Mart Hot”. The Ticket, thanks to Gordon Keith, latched on to this concept during their annual one-week sabbatical, hence “coining” the term “compound hot”.

I’m still a little mad about that, because Gordon stole the idea from my blog (proof exists), but I cannot possibly fathom that two guys from New Zealand stole that same concept. So this duo, Flight of the Conchords, gets a pass on this one. Besides, I really love their HBO show.

So enjoy my theory of “Wal-Mart Hot” in a whole new perspective…

And, from now on, I promise to limit my video output here…

Stay hard.